The Light Traveler : New Paintingsez.

One of the greatest gifts of this program is that my daily schedule includes spending hours painting everyday. The fact that the hundreds-of-years-old painting studio is one of the most beautiful in the world doesn't hurt either. The studio is a deconsecrated chapel in an ex-convent. A spiral staircase once used by cloistered nuns is still visible in the top back corner, and a set of gargantuan medieval doors (with enough locks to keep out all the medieval dragons and such) open up to let in beams of natural light, cool breezes, and the occasional curious Swedish tourist.

It's hard to get fully focused in a brand new place. Even after almost six weeks, it still feels brand new. There is so much stimuli to react to, from which to glean inspiration. It is sensory overload in the best possible way, but when it comes to making art, particularly nonrepresentational work for the most part, how is one expected to sift through the stimuli and make something that makes sense?

Something non-literal, yet complete. Informed, but personal.

Over the past year most of my work has been graphic and abstract interpretations of concrete forms and ideas, but I'm starting to draw from more intuitive places - conversations and street concerts and experiences that are just as real as shapes and colors and forms and light. How do these things relate, and how might the non-physical experiences look in a visual format?

texture / layers / reduction / geometry / decay / saturation

Margaret Morrison, the painting professor guiding me through my independent study, is one of the most passionate women I have met. Learning from her is incredibly joyous and challenging. She has pushed me to grow, to experiment, to change, to keep making. She also is to blame for my newfound love of Polycolor acrylics.

AND, I have fallen in love with Severini. More specifically, his cubist prints like the ones in the MAEC Museum here in town.